


The Handiwork of Washing Machines

by ReoPlusOne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 18:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReoPlusOne/pseuds/ReoPlusOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth's washing machine isn't working.  She's lucky she has a brother who can help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Handiwork of Washing Machines

She appears at his doorstep one day, completely nude save for a bra and a towel (which slips every which way around her body as she blushes and huffs and really makes _quite_ the fuss, but he doesn't mind, oh no) and dragging a duffel bag behind her. Elizabeth is absolutely hot with rage, not at him but certainly at something, but the regular accent of her speech is replaced with a bird-like shrillness when she’s upset and he can hardly decipher it even after all these centuries.

William invites (drags) her in, her anger becoming infectious especially when he doesn't know what’s wrong. The neighbors have already begun to stare and he’s mentioned that she’s his little sister to some of them — it certainly can’t look proper, not that he cares. But she comes in when he tells her to and sits down on the sofa and composes herself, gently adjusting her glasses like a lady and certainly not as if her femaleness is getting all over his newly-reupholstered cushions (which had not had a naked female on them since Scotland had owned them, not that he would admit it). ”My washing machine is broken,” She grumbles, pulling the towel up around herself at the last moment as it slipped.

“Did you try to use magic on it?” He dares to ask, Scottish courage never failed him.

“That’s why it’s _broken_ ,” She mumbles, her face blushing and hot. He counts his blessings when she doesn't explode and he doesn't have to kick her back on his doorstep (and answer the neighbor’s questions later).

So they stuff his washing machine full of her clothing and he offers up some of his own. She grabs the baggiest monster he’s got, some long-forgotten Christmas present so stretched and old it’s practically a dress on her (and the average teenage London party girl wears far less nowadays anyway). William instead insists on his rules and removes it, shoving her into a Skids concert t-shirt from years (though not so many as the knitted bastard) past. A pair of his boxer shorts completes it and she feels so small standing there in all of it, not even able to pull her stringy hair up into some sort of bun or braid or ponytail. Instead it falls dead around her shoulders and she fusses with that too.

Grudgingly he offers her tea and when she finally accepts he rushes off to the kitchen, recalling just how little he can stand his sister’s presence sometimes, and when he returns, well… she’s dozed off, the telly blasting across the room. Apparently the latest scandal in London just wasn’t interesting enough to hold her attention, or perhaps — he notices the bags under her eyes — they've been holding it just a bit too much lately.

William, the man who took his newest human name in honor of one of his own most well-loved patriots, pet the hair of the woman that had had that man cut, drawn and quartered. As if he loved her. As if he found her beautiful the way a sleeping lynx is, the way she tugged at his shirt and stretched it out. As if he worried, whenever he saw the latest stupid political debate on the news and could just hear her forcing herself through one more night, just _one_ more night without sleeping, for paperwork. And he told himself he didn't, really, but he still couldn't help but smile when she murmured "Alba," in her sleep and clung to his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> He still would have thrown her onto the street in just her bra, though. Happily.


End file.
